


Swirlys and Restroom Romances

by kompulsivelyKapricious



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bullying, Gangs, Humanstuck, M/M, Male Slash, Schoolstuck, Sollux with a Lisp, Violence, drunk teachers, nerds, partially sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kompulsivelyKapricious/pseuds/kompulsivelyKapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so he was missing. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal if the idiot wasn't always early. He even got to class before you did, which was crazy because IT was your favorite class of the day, and you were usually the first one there. You didn't know what his deal was, all you knew was that you really did care about the guy, and you had this feeling in your stomach that something was seriously wrong.</p>
<p>It couldn't hurt to go check it out... right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swirlys and Restroom Romances

**Author's Note:**

> Contains bullying, swearing, and boy on boy. None of it is that severe, just thought I would warn those who don't like some of those things. *shrugs* please enjoy, though. I had a lot of fun writing it, and hopefully you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Your chin rests on the back of your left hand as your right hand whisks skillfully over the keyboard, your eyes scanning the coding on the computer screen quickly, darting from left to right faster than even your IT teacher could read his own handwriting. It was pathetic, really. You hand stills momentarily as your eyes glance up from your work to peer over the monitor long enough to see that your teacher was red in the face and drowsy eyed as he checked off on his attendance slip. You sigh quietly and turn around in your chair to pester the kid behind you.

 

“Hey.”

 

The boy that sat behind you raised one of his eyebrows. “Hey?”

 

“Yeah, hey.”

 

“You’re so weird, Captor.” He rolls his eyes and starts typing again. His fingers moved slowly but rhythmically. He was one of those coders that preferred binary coding and did it slowly, mainly for relaxation, but could fly through it with a quickness that almost surpassed even you. Almost. Though, you’d been doing this pretty much your entire life, so no one was as good as you were. Probably. Anyway way that wasn’t the point, and this whole train of thought was stupid.

 

“You’re supposed to say something else other than insults.” You lisp out, narrowing your eyes behind your 3D glasses. You preferred them to sunglasses, mainly because no one wore 3D glasses and also they had two colors instead of just one, which you really liked. You had a thing for duality. There was something beautiful about it.

 

“What the hell do you want me to say?” He stops typing and leans back in his chair, staring at you over the screen of his laptop. “The sky is a wonderful shade of blue today? Look, the leaves are falling, it must be autumn. Mr. Hardy is drunk again.”

 

“You make horrible conversation, Holland. Where’s Ampora?”

 

Holland snorts loudly and starts typing again. “You mean your boyfriend? Wherever he is I’m glad he isn’t here. He’s always asking for help. Honestly, he should just stick to art or something. Stupid noob.”

 

You frown and turn away from him. Honestly he was making your IQ suffer a loss of about two points per millisecond. He was a total asshole. You were honestly worried for the kid. He entered your class several months back and he had become something like your apprentice. He got on your nerves a lot, but he was a good kid nonetheless. He had a really annoying English accent; annoying enough that you really didn’t even think it was real, but he made a pretty good show of keeping it up if it wasn’t real.

 

Anyway, this train of thought was stupid. You turned your attention back to the teacher sitting at the front of the classroom and think about ways you could snap him out of his stupor. You needed to get out of the classroom to try and find Ampora. That kid wouldn’t miss IT for the world, and you didn’t know why. You shared a couple of other classes with him, all of which he usually showed up late to, but he never failed to be early to this class. Every single fucking day he was here, even before you, and that was something so obviously you were worried.

 

Looking around you, you found a sheet of blank copy paper and balled it up. You weren’t a good thrower, and so if it missed you would probably need to actually get your lazy ass up and ask him if you could leave. Though if you could actually make it, this usually worked to get his attention. You balled up the paper nice and tight so you could throw it hard without it flying off in a weird direction and chucked it at Mr. Hardy. It bounced off of his balding head and he snorted out of his daydreaming to glare directly at you.

 

You grinned deviously and wriggled your fingers in a sarcastic wave. He grunted and nodded his head in the direction of the door. You did a mental dance of happiness inside your head and hurried out of your classroom, ignoring the daggers that were being jabbed into your back by Holland, and smirking the entire way. Smirking at least until the door was shut behind you and you were standing in the hallway, completely ignorant of where your idiot underling could possibly be. He was too much of a goodie-two-shoe kind of person to skip out on school completely, and so you knew he was here.

 

But where exactly was he was the question. And this was a question you didn’t entirely feel like asking yourself or even figuring out for that matter; honestly, you didn’t even understand why you cared. He was a majorly privileged dick. Seriously, he could do whatever he wanted, spit out his family’s name, and get away with it. He was a trust-fund baby, so even if his name couldn’t get him out of his problems, his pocket full of gold could. And you weren’t kidding about the pocket full of gold, either. You had seen it before.

 

You sighed and rubbed your eyes underneath your glasses. This was going to be a headache for you, you could feel it. And so, because of this, you decided to start out in the restroom. You kind of had to pee anyway, and so it was a win-win situation. If you found Ampora, you also got the chance to relieve your bladder. If you did not find Ampora, you would still get the chance to relieve your bladder. The situation couldn’t be any more perfect than it was.

 

And so you began your moderately short trek down the hall towards the men’s restroom. It was at the end of the hallway situated on the left-hand side of the short person and tall person water fountains that sat in between the ladies’ room and the men’s room. You walked into the restroom and immediately lowered your head as you tried to make your way to the stall at the back of the restroom. A group of older boys were standing around in front of the stall that was always out of order. Rumor had it that it was always out of order because there was a kid somewhere in the school that took a major weekly shit. It was gross. And that’s why these boys liked that stall.

 

You hurried into the last stall, locked the door, and fought against the voices screaming in your head to not drop to the floor and crawl across the stalls to see who they were trying to drown now. You did it despite your internal sirens going off and made it halfway there before you heard a scream muffled by water. Your eyes went wide and you scrambled into the nearest stall and jumped up onto the toilet so you couldn’t be seen just in case they were to look. A small sheet of water blanketed the ground as they kept trying to flush the toilet, and you grimaced, feeling really guilty.

 

But you were a lanky wimp—albeit a tall lanky wimp—but a wimp nonetheless.

 

You wrapped your arms around your knees and waited for the gurgling noises to subside and be replaced with harsh gasping and choking sounds as the bullies pulled the poor soul from the bowels of the dreaded shit beast. You called that specific toilet that because it was every stereotypical nerd’s worst fear. You had never actually been stuck into a toilet and nearly drowned, but you weren’t willing to try it out either. You knew it couldn’t be fun, and you weren’t very good at holding your breath. Not to mention you had a really weak stomach and would throw up if your face got that close to something that unsanitary. You shuddered at the thought of it. It made you feel the need to retch up the contents of your lunch.

 

“Maybe that’ll teach him to keep his fat mouth shut!” One of the boys snickered, a thick Texan accent making it obvious he hadn’t been living here for very long. New York accents tended to grow on everyone in the United States, even the Southerners. “Ain’t that right, Strider?”

 

There was a long pause. “Yeah. Let’s get outta here. These smells are seriously harshing on my vibes.”

 

You stayed sitting there for a few more minutes, making sure everyone had left before you decided it was a good idea to relax and let your feet drop to the ground. They splashed in the water still leaking from the stall beside you and you winced. You could still here the gagging sounds coming from the poor kid. You could only imagine what he had already thrown up, and it made you curious to see if he had made it to the toilet or if he had puked while he was in the toilet and it was all over him now.

 

You stepped out of your stall and peered past the open door in the first stall. You stood there frozen for a few minutes before you could find the courage to open your stupid mouth and say something.

 

“Ampora?” Real intelligent Captor; A+ for effort though.

 

Eridan jumped and shoved something into his pocket before you could see what it was. He looked up at you, his eyes wide with shock. “Sol?”

 

Your eyes meet and your gut twists with guilt. Had you known it was him you would have braved the bullies to save him from the dreaded shit beast. Despite the disgusting water on the ground you drop to your knees, staring at him open-mouthed and with nothing to say to him.

 

“So this ‘appened.” His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes (which were currently two-colored because one of his violet contacts had gotten washed out, and the other eye was blue) anxiously waiting for you to say something, his left hand rubbing his forearm absently. You didn’t know what to say. “What are you goin’ to do?”

 

“I… I don’t know what to say, Ampora.” Your lisp seems more pronounced. “I just… I came in here looking for you. If I had known those guys were messing with you, Er-”

 

“Jus’ shut up and help me clean myself off.” He muttered, averting his gaze. You nod quickly and get to your feet so you can help him get to his. When he’s standing you guide him to the sink and examine him, checking for anything particularly gross on his clothes and in his hair. There was nothing, but you still gestured to his soaked shirt.

 

“Off, take it off. You’re going to smell like shit for the rest of the day if you don’t try to wash it now.” You press your lips together, fighting a grin, suddenly realizing what you'd just said. “No pun intended.”

 

He snorts, half amused and half irritated at your level of insensitivity. “You’re an asshole,” but he’s smiling now and shaking his head, “but you sort of know how to make a bloke feel better about gettin’ his head shoved into a nasty toilet.”

 

You say nothing in response, only smile slightly, as he pulls his shirt over his head and hands it to you. You turn on the water and hold it under the current, waiting for the water to turn warm. When it’s steaming, you load the shirt down with soap and begin scrubbing it. You turn on the water to the sink beside you and gesture to it.

 

“Wet your hair, after we get this clean, we’re going to use it to scrub your hair and face.”

 

Eridan shrugs and sticks his head underneath the water. He turns and holds his mouth open underneath the facet and gurgles the water in the back of his throat. You watch him curiously, absentmindedly washing his shirt and wondering if he can breathe with the water running into his mouth and over his nose like that. He tilts his head to the side and slides smoothly out from under the facet and spits the water out of his mouth, taking deep breaths. Water drips from his hair and onto his face and shoulder. He runs his right hand through his hair and looks down at you.

 

If you thought you were taller, he had at least a foot on you. Your cheeks warmed slightly and you turned back to the task at hand. Eridan sidled up next to you, your shoulders barely touching, and leaned his elbows on the counter. He says nothing, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. Despite that, though, you still felt the need to say something. You hate silence.

 

“How’re you feeling?”

 

“I’m feeling…” he pauses and grins at you. “Pretty shitty right now.”

 

“Ha-ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes behind your 3D glasses, but you’re grinning too. It makes you glad that he can at least joke about it with you. “I’m serious though, Eridan. How are you, really?”

 

He’s frowning now, that easy-going grin completely gone. He looks up into the mirror, sighs, and takes out his other contact to throw it away. When he returns to your side, he still hasn’t spoken, and you’re worried now. If he was getting bullied; Eridan, lanky-but-muscular-and-alarmingly-tall-Eridan was getting bullied, there had to be some serious problems between him and the people who were brave enough to take him on. Honestly, even you had your doubts about the times you picked on him. He probably let you win your physical fights; you’re seriously convinced he’s strong enough to put you in the hospital for weeks.

 

“I don’t fight back.” He finally says. “You know, I really actually hate violence with a bloody passion.”

 

You nod. “I can understand that. But Eridan, they could have really hurt you.”

 

You wring out the shirt when it stops rinsing out suds and load it down with soap again. You gesture for him to lean down and scrub the fucking shit (heh) out of his head. When you’re satisfied, you tap the bottom of his chin and he tilts his face upwards so he’s looking directly into your eyes. You hesitate for a second, just staring into his alarmingly blue eyes, and then abruptly start scrubbing his face until he’s mumbling irritably that it’s starting to burn. You stop scrubbing and commence to rinsing the shirt again.

 

“Eridan, I get that you don’t like violence. I don’t much care for it either, but at least I fucking understand that at some point, cowering down and taking it could get me killed.”

 

“And fighting back can kill others, Sol.”

 

That shuts you up. He is staring into the mirror, his brown and purple hair sticking in all directions and white with soap suds, his face equally bubbly. If you guys weren’t talking about something serious right now you would be teasing him about how idiotic he looks. But you refrain from saying stupid things and stay quiet.

 

“I don’t have a nice family.” He shakes his head, his smile a bitter one. “They only care about the material things in life. Is it so hard to care about the people in your life, too?”

 

“No, not really.” You shrug and wring the shirt out for the second time, holding it up so it hides your face. “I might be a big asshole sometimes, Ampora, but I—” you grimace and hesitate, still holding up the shirt. “—I might actually kind of care about you a tiny little bit.”

 

“Seriously?” Eridan takes the shirt from you, his head tilted slightly to right. He’s smiling again; a small smile that makes you think that he’s considering the idea but is also kind of hesitant to believe it. “I thought I always got on your last nerve.”

 

“You do!” You throw your hands in the air exasperatedly. “Jesus Christ, dude. You’re so oblivious to that shit, aren’t you? Just ‘cause I care about you doesn’t mean that you don’t get on my nerves.”

 

He chuckles and pulls the shirt over his head. “I care about too, Sol. A lot, actually.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, enough of this love fest. I can feel my lunch coming back to haunt me.” You shudder and lean against the counter, watching with an amused smile as Eridan tries to fix his now clean hair in the mirror and laughing when he pouts as he is promptly defeated. “I knew that Elvis thing you had going on wasn’t natural like you said it was.”

 

He laughs. “Okay, you caught me. I was trying to impress you.”

 

“Well, it worked until you let me touch it and it was gelled to Hell and back. Stupid.” Your shoulders shake with laughter. “That was your first error in trying to impress the smartest kid in IT.”

 

“What was my second mistake?”

 

“Pretending you knew everything to ever know about binary coding.” You snorted. “That was a total disaster. We had to get you a new computer by the time that was said and done with. But hey, that’s what you get for being a prissy, know-it-all, douche bag.” You shook your head at the memory. “I mean, come on! You walked in there without even knowing what ASCII was. You were the biggest fucking joke for like, two weeks.”

 

“Oy, I tried my hardest, Captor.”

 

You grinned. “Try harder.”

 

“How should I go about doing that?” He leaned against the counter and looked at you suggestively, but you shrugged, tilting your head slightly and smirking.

 

“I don’t know, Ampora, what exactly do you think you should be doing?”

 

He took a step toward you and grabbed your hand, tugging you closer to him. You followed the guidance of his hand willingly. You knew that if you had pulled away he would have let it stop where it had begun, but you knew what he was aiming for, and you had had your sights set at least two months after training the hopeless lump. His right hand came to rest on your lower back and his left hand tilted your chin up so he could look at your face from his level. He sighed and took your glasses off and you grinned when his eyes widened slightly.

 

“Keeper of Secrets, I am.” You lisped out in his ridiculous accent. “Bloody difficult job when I’ve got blokes like you ‘angin’  ‘round like police mutts.”

 

“I do _not_ sound like that.” He rolls his eyes.

 

“Yeah, you kind of do.” You laugh. “Sometimes it annoying, but then there are times where I don’t really mind it, and then there are the extremely _rare_ times when, to be honest, I find it kind hot.”

 

He gnaws on his bottom lip to hide his grin, but his cheeks flush pink at your honesty. His hand grabs a fistful of your shirt and pulls you closer to him until not even air could pass between the two of you. You rise up onto your tiptoes—which is kind of embarrassing, but you try to ignore it—and wrap your arms around his neck. He leans down the rest of the way and presses his lips to yours. You’re surprised at how soft his lips are, considering he’s always chewing on his bottom lip. Eridan wraps both of his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground and onto the counter, and you break away from him, gasping.

 

“Hey, I’m not that short.”

 

He shrugs his blue eyes vibrant. “To me you are. How tall are you?”

 

“I’m five foot eleven, which is above average for my age group, so I’m considered pretty tall.” You sneer at him but he’s still laughing like what you’re saying is the cutest thing in the world.

 

“That’s adorable, Sol. I’m six foot seven. I’ve got almost a whole foot on you.” He’s smirking, but his eyes are kind and warm. His thumbs are tracing small circles onto the back of your hands, and you actually kind of find it calming. You look down at your hands and maneuver them until your fingers are intertwined. You glance back up at him, your brows furrowed in thought. You kick your feet back and forth like a little kid and then sigh, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chest. He releases your hands reaches around to hold you.

 

“I really am sorry for not trying to help you.” You whisper, closing your eyes. “If I had known it was you, Eridan, I would have beaten to fucking shit out of those creeps. They will never bother you again, that much I can promise you.”

 

“Sollux.” Eridan forces you to look up at him, but his eyes are still soft. How can he be so calm in a situation like this? You would be murderous with rage at this point and probably already in cuffs and on your way to jail. Or the insane asylum. Either way you would be locked up for the rest of your life. “I started it by saying something I shouldn’t have. Maybe I didn’t deserve being drowned in the toilet, but I sure as hell deserved something. You couldn’t have known that it was me, either, so don’t think about it too much.”

 

“I’m a fucking coward though! Regardless of who it was, I should have helped. I was too concerned with my own safety. I felt guilty, but I was scared, too.” You shuddered. “I wanted to help. I really did, but… you wouldn’t understand.”

 

“I do understand.” He kisses you once and smiles at you. “And don’t worry about it. I took my punishment for the things I said, and I promise I won’t let it happen again. I know what I said earlier about hating violence, but I won’t let myself be put in that position again, okay?”

 

You narrow your eyes. “This has happened before?”

 

“Yeah, a lot, actually.” He looks uncomfortable now. “Maybe we can divulge our many secrets later. Right now, though, we should probably get back to class. We don’t want anyone to think we’re shagging in the boy’s restroom.”

 

“Why?” You hop down from the counter and grab his hand, grinning. “Do you know how much cooler I would get? I can see it now, ‘Sollux Captor is dating the insanely rich and powerful aristocrat, Eridan Ampora.’ Seriously, all I have to do now is just say that and I can be worry free.”

 

“Please tell me that’s not the only reason you decided to date.” He’s grinning still, though, and you laugh.

 

“I’ll admit it, it’s not the only reason.” You shrug. “I actually do kind of like you.”

 

Eridan smirks and steals another kiss before the two of you leave the restroom. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you Sol.”

 

“At least you can’t say I’m not romantic.”


End file.
